Evander Stream and the Attack of His Greatest Fan

by Yamaba Aikaloko (ヤマバ アイカロコ)

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/206012.html)

With one hand holding onto the brim of his iconic Homburg hat and the other clutching the precious stone orb, genealogist Mo Bentham races down the dark tunnel. The dark waves almost catching up on him consist of pitch black, venomous spiders. When he rounds the corner, an impossibly large spider web is found to cover the entrance to the cave.

“Seriously? If only the American army worked that swiftly…”

Mo reaches for his giant cutter and manages to severe several strands of sticky string before the spiders crawl up onto his leather boots. He kicks and swears, stumbles back into the web and gets himself tangled up. As the spiders climb his khakis, Mo reaches outwards for all that he’s worth so that the Russian orb catches the bright sunshine just outside of the cave. Its ancient magic releases a beam of focused light, scaring off the spiders closest to him. With a cry Mo breaks free of the web, only to fall from the cave’s mouth into the deep tropical ravine below. Clutching desperately at anything within reach, he snatches hold of a piece of rope. Looking up, he sees that the rope dangles from a hovering helicopter. His trusty sidekick Gareth Quinn grins down from an open window.

“Awright there, bud?”

Mo waggles his eyebrows roguishly and makes sure his Homburg is in place.

“When am I not? Get us out of here, before those spiders decide that they like their flies with rotor blades!”

I stuff my face with popcorn. As the helicopter flies away into the sunset, I know the exact shape of every amber lined cloud by heart. Once the credits stop rolling, I reach for my trusty Android to author a brief entry for “the Stream Team” forum.


I press the button. The text announcing the start of this glorious, glorious day appears on the screen.

“Welcome back, all of you!”

The Nazi guards playing cards with two guys from the US Marine look up at the bearded man shouting in the megaphone. A woman comes to a stop, balancing a stack of rubber limbs in her arms. The techs stop making noise tugging at parts of a large spotlight.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks… Listen up! Today we have a living icon of adventure movies on the set, as you all know! We say welcome to Mister Evander Stream!”

A well-toned man in his early forties stands up from his make-up chair and waves his hand to answer the spontaneous applauds erupting in the room, and my knees almost give out. His six and a half feet of manliness are dressed up in worn jeans and a dirty tan tank top for today’s appearance. As he sits down again, the room quiets down. I have to force my hands to stop clapping.

“Welcome, Mister Stream! Welcome! It’s a great honor having you on set! As you all know, we’ll begin with the descent into the hidden chamber beneath the library. We’ll shoot as much as possible in one single take, and we’re aiming for four minutes of uncut action! It will look absolutely great, but I got to warn you that the moving axes are rather heavy…”

One of the Nazi officers peeks at the top card of the deck while the others listen. I don’t rat him out. Feeling giddy, I sneak out from behind the fake brick wall that I’ve hidden behind and take a few steps over the odd looking floor, towards the Greatest Hero of All Time.

Suddenly, a hand grasps my shoulder.

“Whoa, easy there! The stepping stones move, did you miss that?”

A middle-aged woman with purple glasses pulls me back from the fake granite squares laid down in a chess game pattern on the floor. She seems to be one of those extremely competent middle-aged women that I fear.

“Uh… Sorry. I’ll walk around them.”

I look down quickly so the hood will mask my face again, but as I turn to flee there is another crew member standing in my way.

“Shyla, darling! Did you bring a nephew?”

I catch a glimpse of well-manicured hands before they remove my hood.

“Oh… My… God! He’s dreeeamy! Shyla, hon, it’s a crime to keep relatives that look like Jensen Ackles a secret.”

I stare at the androgynous man beaming towards me. Who is Jensen Ackles? I take a careful step to the side but purple Shyla speaks again before I can escape.

“He’s not mine. I don’t know who he is! What’s your name?”

I’ve never been a good liar.

“Jens… uh… Jens Acorn.”

Schooling my features into the most handy-manly expression he can think of, I point towards the other side of the room.

“Yeah. I’m with the prop building section. Listen, I’m needed over there, so…”

Shyla is every bit as sharp as she looks – she narrows her eyes into slits and cocks her face to the side. Damnit!

“You’re with Anderson’s team? I haven’t seen you around before.”

I panic. No words come out of my mouth. I beam towards her hoping to win points for charm, but obviously Shyla doesn’t like younger men. She picks up a walkie-talkie from her belt.

“Shyla Dennis to security, we have an unauthorized person on set, by the floor puzzle.”

The man shrugs his shoulders so that the make-up brushes in his shirt pockets clink, and looks compassionately at me.

“Sorry Jensen, you gotta wait until the movie hits the theatres.”

Oh no. No no no. I search every corner of my brain for something to save the situation, to save this day, to save me… Emptiness answers. I was brought up too well. Two security guys with cool looking vests approach from the left, and soon enough I’m being hauled towards the exit. People turn their heads as we pass, and I know that I must make the perfect picture of absolute misery to them. I twist my neck in despair, but there is only the usual chaos of a film set.

Because I have my head turned, there really is no warning at all. The shot is deafening.

I jump like a sissy rabbit. The guy at my right side sinks to the floor. The other security guard reaches for his weapon but is overpowered by the masked men barging in through the door. I stumble to the side.

“All phones on the floor! You hear me!? All phones on the floor, now!”

The masked guys wave their guns in the air, pointing at the people closest to the entrance. There is one or two surprised screams but otherwise only terrified silence. I try to back up slowly, but stealth is clearly not my forte. One of the masked men catches sight of me and shoves me roughly back into the crowd. I almost trip over a rubber leg.

“Get back! Get in the center of the room!”

Crew, cast, and I slowly obey, gathering in the middle of the large room built like an old castle hall. Two of the masked men leave briefly to search the changing rooms, the side rooms and the make-up boxes, collecting people to drop off with us others. Before long we form a little sitting crowd just in front of the checkered floor, surrounded by our dropped cell phones.

“You shut up! You sit down! You don’t give us any trouble! Got it? You there – yeah, you! Get over here!”

A handsome black haired man about my age rises slowly from the floor and shows his palms in surrender. He slowly makes his way through the large group of sitting people, all holding their breaths. As the man leaves the circle of hostages and enters that of discarded phones, one of the masked men pulls him close by the upper arm.

“You! Are you Landon Farnham?”

The man seems scared and doesn’t answer. He’s shaken crudely by the arm.

“What’s your name, idiot? Answer me!”

As the man with dark hair seems transfixed by terror, the man holding him forces him down to the ground and juts the gun against his forehead. Another one of the masked men pushes the first one away.

“No damaging the goods, you fuckhead! This is Farnham, I’m sure of it. Now we want Lisa Low.”
Before they get the change to scan their hostage for the next celebrity, a young woman stands up. She seems furious.

“There she is! Come over here, pretty!”

As Lisa reaches the group of men holding Landon, she too is seized.

“What do you want? What right do you think you have to do this?” she spits at them, drawing her upper lip up like a growling dog. The men laugh and tug at her hair.

“A shame, you’re prettier on film! It’s all quite simple, sweetheart – we’re gonna switch you stars for money and get the lives we deserve.”

I catch a glimpse of movement in the corner of my eye. A man bows his head and hunches over a bit, just like I did on the set. Just like a person that doesn’t want to attract attention… I look over at him and feel my insides melt to goo.

We’ve been here for forty minutes now, and everyone agrees with me that we must look to Evander Stream for help. Even Shyla has folded to the general consensus. Evander looks around with a pained expression. I wonder why? Each time he looks in my direction I feel like swooning.

Two of our guards have taken Lisa and Landon away, into one of the dressing rooms we think, so there are only two remaining. They send us occasional foul looks, but only start yelling once, when a stunt man tries to sneak his phone back into his pocket. Otherwise they seem more interested in discussing when someone will pay up or how many cops there are outside than in our whispering.

“Really, he can save us all!” I mouth quietly to my neighbor. “I’ll be the decoy so that you lot can get out, and then Mister Stream will help me! It’ll work, I promise!”

She nods slightly and carries the message forward. Even the wounded security guy nods, and I know that my plan is on.

“Hey! Listen!” I yell, raising a hand as if we were in school. “The guy that you shot needs to be let go! He’s bleeding all over the place!”

The masked guys look at me, their guns at the ready.

“You stay where you are” the taller one says. The other one guarding us is the aggressive one who threatened to blow Landon Farnham’s brains out.

“Yeah, okay. But seriously, if you don’t let him out, he might die.”

Our guards look at each other. If they’re not total dicks they should care at least somewhat about people dying.

“Listen, I’ll take him out and come right back inside. Okay? I promise. I’ll just take him out.”

They still hesitate. I try my utmost to look like a male mother Teresa in her thirties, but it’s not enough. The angry one raises his weapon. The wounded security guy chooses that moment to let out a weak moan.

Tall guy lays a hand on Angry guy’s barrel to lower it.

“Take him out.”

My legs have fallen asleep, so I move clumsily through the sitting crowd. As I bend down to get a good grip around the bleeding security guy’s chest, I wink at Evander. I don’t think he sees me though, because he doesn’t answer it.

People shuffle to make way for us. I pull the wounded guy towards the front exit, making sure that his leg leaves a nice bloody trail for effects. He plays his part well, letting his head bob weakly against his chest. At least I hope he’s exaggerating. Otherwise he’ll probably be dead as soon as he gets out into the California sunshine.

When we reach the little hallway, I let go of my passenger for a moment to push the door handle down. As soon as the thick door swings open I can hear a helicopter approaching. That’s too cool! We reach the concrete outside and are greeted with shouts from the policemen surrounding the building.

“We have two hostages coming out the front door – I repeat – two hostages coming out of the front door…”

“… Two men: one Caucasian, dark hair, about thirty-five; one Asian, about forty-five, seemingly shot in the leg…”

“There’s blood. Get a doctor over there!”

Two ladies in white coats sprint towards us. I let them take the security guy but back away as they try to pull me towards an ambulance as well.

“I promised to come back. I can’t stay.”

A third woman, this one in a police uniform, approaches in time to hear my words. She steps right in front of me taking up nearly all of my visual field.

“How many are there inside?”

“Uhm… About fifty people?”

“How many are your captors?”

“Four… Listen, I really have to go back.”

“Will they let a meddler in?”

“No! Definitely not! I’ve got to go!”

I don’t know that last part for certain of course, but I can’t let the police ruin this ideal situation. I congratulate myself as I back into the building and shut the door again.

Halfway over the floor, I stop, and the enemy reacts according to plan.

“Get back here! Get back now!”

I take a step backwards. Tall guy raises his gun and starts walking towards me.

“Or not! Catch me if you can!” I shout at them. Tall guy’s speeding up, but Angry guy remains on his chair. “Shortie!” I add, and as I turn and run, and they’re both hot on my trail.

There’s a net hanging on the far wall leading up to a dark opening, and I soar upwards on it like a balloon. Right behind me are the Angry pants of Angry guy.

“Get down, idiot! Give me some space and I’ll just shoot him!”

I reach the opening. It’s a dead end. Even fancy sets have their limits, I take it. Understanding that running forwards won’t do me much good, I make it into a really cool feint before I do a backflip back down. What can I say? I’m in my film mode!

Clearly I haven’t worked on my backflips. I hit Tall guy in the face.

After a few seconds I get my vision back. Tall guy seems pretty out of it, and Angry guy is still trying to turn around in the net to draw his gun. Thinking on my feet I grab hold of the net and give it a good shake, making Angry guy loose his balance and get tangled. I snatch Tall guy’s gun from his limp hand and run.

The circle of phones gapes empty. I see the last couple of crew members round a corner and I take off after them. Angry guy breaks free with a roar behind me. I run as fast as I ever had through the big room. Suddenly, the floor sinks four inches.

I realize that I’ve forgotten the stepping stones.

I scramble back up, making too little progress over the tricky floor.

“You gunna die, you fucker! You gunna die!”

He’s right behind me. The solid ground is getting closer… closer….

There’s an electric humming sound and the room instantaneously gets much brighter. I reach the edge of the floor puzzle and run into the arms of my Hero. He’s turned on the large spotlight right in the face of my attacker.

“Let’s go, kid!”

He’s just called me kid. I tingle all over.

“Why is this such a bright idea, again? How are we going to get out?”

I throw the empty super glue container over my shoulder. This door won’t open any time soon.

“We have to give the others a chance to get away, right? Now the helicopter can get them off the roof safely. You and I have to save the stars!”

Angry guy is already shooting at first door that we passed. It’ll take him a few minutes to get through the barricade of props that we built behind it, though. When he does break through, he won’t stand a chance against the door to the roof that we’ve glued shut, so he’ll have to pick one of the others.

I take Evander by the hand and choose one of them for us. He doesn’t pull his hand back.

“You seem rather nuts, kid!” he exclaims as we race down a concrete staircase. “Do you know that the stunt you pulled in the great hall was identical to that of Martha in Templar Riddles? Except that she back flipped down instead of falling into the gunman’s face.”

I squeeze his hand.

“Oh, you noticed? It’s one of my all-time favorites! And afterwards you torch the castle, run off together and have sex in the boat.”

He jerks his hand from mine and sends me a funny look. Must be toughening himself up for some villain-bashing.

“Police help hostages. Escaped hostages escape. We don’t stand a chance in this weird storage building.”

He’s right, it really is weird: all old storage house mixed up with fake castle walls, odd contraptions and action movie props. It’s apparently unusual to shoot scenes on a set that has been more or less completely transformed for its purpose – normally it’s just backdrops and computer effects. It’s even more unusual to build several sets into one building like this, but since Zodiac Zenith was such a blockbuster the film studio is really paying up for its sequel.
I feel the corners of my mouth lift in bliss. I’m on an adventure with Evander Stream in a medieval castle!

“Kid, movies are not for real.”

He can read minds too!

“Movies are fake to the core,” he continues. “If it were real life, heroes would die like flies. But you’re not the only one who’s having a hard time separating fact from fiction, I suppose… I can’t understand why all those people suddenly looked to me for help in the great hall!”

He suddenly falls silent and holds up a hand to stop me. There’s sound coming from above.

“What do you mean, ‘gone’!? Where are they?”

“All I found was this clumsy fool knocked out! There’s no one else in the hall!”

“Fuck! How could I have chosen such idiots to work with!?”

“I think the real question is how you could have chosen such a crappy career,” a third voice interrupts.

“Lisa Low,” Evander whispers.

“Shut up, bitch! One more word and I’ll shoot you through your fucking tongue! We keep it cool and stay here. If the police have gotten in somehow we can still hold this room.”

There’s light coming from a small ventilation window close to the ceiling, partly covered by a thin metallic frame with bars. Standing on my toes, I can see four pairs of feet and all of Tall guy.

“We’ve gotta help them!” I whisper.

Evander’s shoulders sink and he looks around with a hopeless gaze. It’s probably his thinking pose.

A good thing about movie sets is that there’s a lot of stuff lying around: like chains, padlocks, and scissors. We use the scissors to cut the net from the wall in the great hall and the chain to encircle a heavy backdrop beside the door to the hostage room. With a quick hand movement one can twirl it around the door handle and lock it in place with the padlock.

We share a look of manliness and adventure lust before we barge in. Has Evander always been so pale? God, he’s handsome!

I count down, mouthing quietly. Then we kick the door open and run in, net lifted high over our heads.

“What the fu…?”

And they’re caught. Lisa Low and Landon Farnham are also caught of course, since there’s net all over the place, but Evander quickly cuts them free with his scissors and starts working on their bonds.

“Get their guns, kid!”

I search the two mad, fallen villains as thoroughly as possible through the net, while the others rush out of the room. I manage to fish both weapons out and turn around. Is that Evander standing panting in the doorway, congratulating me to my heroic deeds? No, he’s too short… Way, way too short…

Angry guy.

“Please let me kill him. Please.”

“Shut up.”

“He won’t bring us much money anyway! He’s not famous!”

“I said shut up! Let me think!”

Angry guy points his gun at my stomach. Older guy paces the room and snaps at him. Italian guy has taken over the make-up chairs that Landon Farnham was recently tied to and just hangs his head.

I pretend to edge away from the gun, but actually move towards the little window close to the floor. Perhaps, if Evander stretches his fingers through the bars, I can feel them before I die. I reach the wall. I stretch my fingers out.

There is nothing.

Not even bars. But there are scissors, slowly working on the rope tying my wrists behind my back. My heart flutters. This is so intense!

The masked men are arguing among themselves about how to proceed. Angry guy wants to see blood, but Older guy wants whatever money he can get. Italian guy seems to want a milder sentence, but he’s clearly not the talkative kind. No one takes notice of me.

The ropes are cut through. I wiggle my fingers experimentally. Little by little I lift the back of my hoodie to grip Tall guy’s gun – they forgot to search me for that. I hold it towards the ventilation window, and soon I feel someone taking it. I recognize his hard fingertips…

I edge ever so slowly towards the door, careful not to pull the net spread out on the floor. Three feet… Five feet…

“Hey you!”

Older guy sees me! Then a gun goes off. The bad guys fall down to take cover. I run out the door.

Lisa Low slams the door shut behind me and locks the chain in place. She grins at me and holds her palm up for a high-five. I grin back and slap it, adrenaline and pride flooding my veins.

Landon Farnham and Evander emerge from the shadows of a side door.

“Oh God…” Landon Farnham mumbles. “It actually worked. Oh, God…”

The villains yank away at the door, but in vain. I hold up my palm for Evander to slap, and after rolling his eyes he actually does.

“Damn it, kid! You were lucky that the metal piece was only held in place by hatches and not by screws!”

“It wasn’t luck with you around! Thank you so much for saving me, Mister Stream!”

“Saving you? I fired a warning shot through the ventilation, that’s all. It was Lisa who chained the crazy bastards in.”

Landon Farnham looks up.

“Chained? What chain did you… Oh my god! That’s the chain we use for the escape scene; it’s meant to break under pressure!”

It is as though the chain heard him. It breaks and the door flings open.

“Split!” I shout, grabbing hold of Evander’s arm and sprinting down the stone corridor to our right. Lisa Low and Landon Farnham take off towards the great hall.

There’s at least two behind us – Angry guy is howling with rage and the other one already pants from exhaustion.

“Shoot!” I scream. “Shoot them!”

“Are you out of your mind, kid!? This is real life! They could die!”

“We’re being chased by murderous kidnappers! It’s okay to shoot!”


Evander lifts the gun and pokes it blindly over his head. A shot goes off. Nothing happens. Two more bangs, and then one of our followers shrieks in pain. It’s Italian guy! I risk a backwards glance and see him clutching his right knee. Angry guy looks even Angrier. By the looks of it, he’s searching for his own weapon.

“Great, Mister Stream! Now the other one!”

Evander waves the gun around and fires randomly, but when the gun clicks Angry guy is still running.

“Dammit all!”

Shots go off behind us.


Evander sounds so forceful! If we weren’t being chased I’d probably melt into a puddle of admiration. The corridor gets narrower by the second and we have to crouch as well as we can while running. A bullet flies past my ear, touching my hair.

“Mister Stream! Do something!”

And he does! Suddenly he whips around and yanks at a lever that I didn’t see with all his might. Something large swooshes by right behind us and I spin around on the spot. There are several large somethings. Moving axes!

Angry guy is caught in between two of them. They’re swinging from wall to wall at high speed, but Angry guy risks it and throws himself forward. He doesn’t make it. One of the axes hits him straight in the back and crushes him to the fake stone wall. He drops his gun to the floor with a clatter.

“Yeah! Woo!”

I wave a fist around in the air. This really is the greatest day of my life!

“You’re messed up, kid. Those axes are blunt and made out of plastic.”

Well, that’s cool, too. Not as cool of course, so I stop waving my fist and settle for just grinning. Evander shakes his head but I can see a smile tugging at his lips.

“Doesn’t mean they won’t hold him there, though. Come on, kiddo. Let’s find another way out of here.”

We leave Angry guy to his not so messy fate and move on.

This set is apparently about the size of Spain. After climbing three old ladders, crawling through a tunnel that looks slippery but really isn’t, and balancing on weird, tipping platforms through a ball room, we take a break in the treasure chamber. We sink down on top of two closed treasure chests to catch our breaths.

“If I could only remember more of the tour they gave me this morning,” Evander complains, his head in his hands. “I wasn’t really paying attention to anything else other than those brutal-looking moving axes.”

“Yeah, they were cool… What was your role in this movie, by the way? Nothing’s been released yet besides the fact that you’re in it.”

“I’m just guest-starring as the helpful son of an eccentric millionaire. I disguise myself as a worker on an oil platform to open a secret door for Landon Farnham’s character. The platform explodes in the end, not showing whether I survive or not. If this one becomes a success too, I’ll make another appearance in the third movie.”

“So you’re making a comeback?”

Evander sends me a tired look.

“If I got a dollar for every time someone asked me that question… No kid, I won’t start acting for real again. I don’t need the money and I’m done with the business.”

My heart sink. Still, it feels very special that Evander wants to talk to me about this.

“But you’re the greatest action hero of all time! What went wrong?”

“If you must know… It was all the kissing scenes. A male head character must kiss at least one woman per action movie. That’s the rules of the industry. Only, the more women I kissed, the more I realized that it wasn’t for me. I gave always gave it a good go, of course, since it’s my job… but I knew that my merchandize portrayed me as a straight macho man. That felt so fake.”

“So you weren’t only living a lie – it was your job to portray it to the world!”

I feel tears of sympathy forming in my eyes. Evander looks up as though he’s forgotten that I’m here.

“Uhm… Something like that. But listen kid, now you know more about me than anyone, not counting my mum. You have to return the favor. Hell, I don’t even know your name!”

“I’m Max! Max Magnusson. And… I’m your greatest fan…”

Evander laughs. I like that sound.

“I think we’ve covered that. Give me a real secret.”

Do I dare? Yes. I do.

“I would like you to kiss me. You know, you’ve saved me three times today. It’s only fair that you kiss me.”

Silence fills the treasure chamber, even though there should be violins starting about now. I lean over to him, slowly, and place my lips against his. I give them a kiss. Then I pull back.

Evander apparently shut his eyes during the kiss, because now he opens them.

“Kid… Max… You know I’m not who you think I am, right?”

I nod.


“You know that I’m not halfway as crazy as you.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

And it really is.

He leans in for a crusher. His stubble is the pointiest, manliest thing I’ve ever felt. I moan and grab a hold of his muscular shoulders.

“Max…” He whispers against my mouth, his voice low and husky. “Come here, kid…”

I climb onto his lap, straddling his tree-trunk thighs and deepening the kiss even more. He crushes me to him, one hand on my shoulder blade and the other in the small of my back. I throw my arms around his neck like a needy orangutan.

“Oh… my neck… Please, my neck…” I sigh and tilt my head backwards.

He’s such a thoughtful lover! He worships my Adam’s apple with a swirling tongue and nipping teeth until I’m sporting a boner the size of one of the Austrian gold bars on the floor. Mewling, I press even closer to him to rub my ass against his own happiness.

Evander groans and starts dry-humping my ass through our jeans. I cling to him, claw at his back and ride his lap with my very best impression of a gallop through the moonlit desert.

“Uhn… You wanna get under, kid?”

“Yeah… Hell, yeah…”

And he stands up, taking me with him. Oh, wonder of masculinity! I keep my legs locked around his waist and my arms around his neck as he browses the chamber for a good fucking spot. And there it is.

“Over there! That’s Julius Caesar isn’t it? Oh, please fuck me on Julius Caesar!”

He carries me over to the fallen statue made out of plastic and false gold. As soon as I feel it under my back, I start to wriggle out of my jeans and Stream Team underwear. Evander tugs at my clothing and manages to take off both my sneakers and my hoodie in under two minutes. Then, he reaches for his own zipper.


His cock is awesome.

Before I know it I’m sliding down from the statue to hit my knees in front of him. It smells like man. I grasp his hips and give it a long lick. It tastes like man. This is without a doubt the manliest thing I’ve done in my entire life.

Evander groans like a bear when I go down on him. I suck him like a thick, juicy lollipop, making smacking wet sounds on purpose. His fingernails scrape my scalp as if he wants to hold me in place. When I reach around him to grasp his ass, he begins fucking my mouth – slowly at first, but then accelerating until he thrusts like a madman. I hold on, letting him ride out the storm. When he comes, I swallow.

“Oh, God! It’s so good! So good… Mm… Thanks, kid. What a ride.”

I happily accept his outstretched hand and let him help me up. He draws me in with an arm around my neck and cups a hand over my dick.

“Would you like the same service?”

“No, I’d actually much prefer you to fuck me on Julius Caesar. There probably won’t be another chance of that in my life.”

Evander looks slightly startled, but then he laughs.

“You’re so demanding, Max! But yeah, you’re right, this is a once in a lifetime. Bend over and I’ll see what I can do.”

I turn and bend, regretting that I didn’t shave or anything to make my ass crack look nice. Evander doesn’t seem to mind natural coin slots, though. I hear him spit on his fingers. When they slide up between my buttocks I feel the wet trace they leave behind. Evander lets his fingers draw lazy circles around my asshole before pushing them in.

“Oh, go faster!” I whine, face-down against Caesar’s toga. “I can take more of those!”

Evander pulls out, spits on his fingers again and return with four of them. Oh, they’re big. And hard. And flexible. I push back towards him, finding a nice rhythm to finger-fuck in.

“Oh… Ah… Ah! I’m getting warmed up! Get your cock in!”

Evander thrusts his fingers into me a few more times before drawing them out. He spits, twice, and I lift my hips a bit to achieve what I guess is the best angle. For a second or two, the head of his cock just rests against my asshole. Then he takes hold of my hips and thrusts slowly.

This is big for real. And really, really nice. I whimper when he’s gone in all the way, but it’s exclusively from pleasure. He lets me adjust for a moment before moving again. I meet his thrusts a little early, one after another, making him pick up the pace. Soon we’re rutting like rabbits on the statue, both of us moaning and sweating.

“Harder… Uhn… Harder!”

“You naughty little… All right, here it comes!”

Adjusting his grip, he lifts my legs off of the floor so that my entire body weight lowers me onto his cock. Then he fucks me in earnest again.

“Ah! Oh!”

I’m bouncing up and down like a rubber ball, and it’s absolute bliss.

“Oh! Oh! Mister… Mister Stream! Mister Streeeaaam!!”

I come. Not like a firework, but like an atomic bomb. I tense up and release what feels like a truckload of sperm in the greatest, most intense climax of my life.

When it’s over, I notice Evander coming too. It’s a strange feeling – probably the best in the world. Then he collapses over me, panting in my ear.

“Really, kiddo. In situations like this, you may call me Evander.”

This is the coolest room yet – at least if you don’t look at the spotlights, cables and opposite concrete wall.

“What is this place supposed to be?” I ask Evander.

“An underground harbor for the Russian scientists. They’re meant to run down from all the doors up there by these odd staircases to the boats that are supposed to dock in the water over there.”

“This would be an epic set for the final battle! Just look at all these wires! Are they for stunts?”

“Yeah, you rig an actor or stuntman up in them and then you can operate the wires from over here. If you yank them, the person flies. If you give them slack, like this…”

The wires drop to the ground forming little pools like the one I left in Caesar’s hand. It turned out to be a rather small truckload, by the way.

“… they get knocked out by wannabe action heroes.”

A man steps out of the shadows from under a staircase. My blood becomes ice in my veins.

Older guy.

“Never… let… companions… slack.”

He punctuates each word with a threatening step forward. His gun points at us with deadly accuracy. I gulp.

“And never let anyone cross you unpunished.”

Older guy aims his weapon in my face.

“First you, pretty boy. I’ll blow your brains out first, because you annoy me so badly.”

He points the gun at Evander.

“Then I’ll shoot you dead, because you… What the… My, my… Look who we have here!”

Older guy laughs, and I don’t like the sound of it.

“Evander Stream! Fancy seeing such a legend here! Perhaps my day isn’t all spoiled – you can bring me a handsome sum, more than those two B-movie stars. You’re Depp to their Knightly and Bloom.”

“They got away, then?” Evander asks.

“They were out the front door before I could catch up with them. But never mind. I’ll keep you with me and blow your pal to bits.”

Once again I’m looking into the barrel of his gun. Something vibrates in my jeans. None of this in the nice and manly way it was with Evander, though. It’s my phone! I never surrendered it in the great hall!

Evander steps in front of me.

“You won’t get anything out of killing this guy. No one’s died yet in this drama, so you can still give up and get a fairly mild sentence.”

I fish my Android from my pocket. It’s a text.

‘Knock knock? / police’

This is what I pay taxes for! Getting text messages signed “police” – so cool! I tap “y” for “yes” and send it off. Then I slip my phone back into my pocket.

“Get out of my way, Stream! You should be glad I won’t shoot you too!”

“Calm down. Listen, you’ve got the gun, no one’s questioning that.”

“I said get out of my way!”

I stick my head out from behind Evander’s broad back.

“Oh, it’s okay. You can shoot me all you want, but I’m curious about a few things first.”

Older guy looks dumbfounded for a moment – then he just looks mad.


I take that as an invitation to ask away.

“Did you get in here the same was as I did? I told the security guys on the street that I was driving to the arena just beside this building to watch my kid’s ice skating contest. One of the guards had been ice skating in his youth and apparently his dad never came to watch him, so they let me through. Then I just snuck in here instead of the arena.”

Older guy blinks. He opens his mouth, closes it again and blinks some more.

“We… we actually said we’d be referees for an ice skating contest.”

“Wow! What are the odds of that? And they let you in too? But if you don’t mind me saying, that’s not a very good plan. What if they hadn’t liked ice skating so much?”

“If they hadn’t let us through, we’d have killed them!”

Was that a sound I heard from one of the doors?

“Oh, that’s crappy. You would have been arrested before entering the building.”

“Just how fast do you think the police are, idiot?”

Right on cue, the door opens with a bang. I fling myself at Older guy.

“Run, Evander!” I yell, as fifteen cops form a zone of safety in one end of the room.

“Police!” they shout. “Drop your weapon!”

But Older guy is faster than he looks. He wrestles me in front of him and juts his gun into my temple. Evander is somewhere behind us – I can see the cops signaling to him to come over to their side of the room.

“One move and he’s fucking dead!”

The police hesitate. There are red spots dancing all over the place, but no one dares to pull the trigger. Older guy forces me to back with him up a staircase. He’s going to escape through another door into this labyrinth!

“Drop your weapon and lay down on the floor! Drop your weapon!”

Older guy isn’t dropping his weapon. He’s approaching a door…

Then Older guy lets go of me with a scream. I look around to see Evander Stream pull at a wire with both hands. Older guy hangs suspended upside-down from said wire as it appears to have caught his foot. The police rush forward to take control of the situation, and soon enough Older guy gets a nice pair of handcuffs and the Miranda warning.

On our way out a kind looking officer takes off his helmet and claps my shoulder.

“We were very lucky you still had your phone! Searching for your number on the Internet was the last thing we could think of to get in contact with the two of you. We had no idea of how the situation was on the inside, so we didn’t dare come in without any kind of reassurance.”

I’m just about to tell him to thank Mister Stream and not me when we reach the front door. Outside is a brightly sunlit chaos made up of policemen running around, freed hostages cheering, ambulances blinking, curious spectators trying to break through the circle of cops, and at least a hundred reporters turning their cameras towards us.

An ending worthy of any action movie. I might not make it into the frame, but that’s all right.

Evander just takes my hand.

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